It was a chilly morning. Black was walking on a street in Diagon alley. He walked idly, enjoying his walk. But something on a window display of a shop stopped him. It was a wanted poster, of a woman. Normally, he would have walked on, but the sight of the face stopped him. Not only had he seen that face, but that he even knew that witch. he read the poster.
He took the poster off the wall, and went back to his room. Pouring himself a full glass of wine, he sat by the window, pouring over the poster.
Hildegard. The bitter memories came flashing back in his mind. It was almost as if he could see it all unfolding before his eyes. The attack on the ministry when he had been the head auror. It was her, she had planned the attack with Blackthorn. She was the reason for his disgrace. He could remember the day clearly as if yesterday.
The attack had seen 1/4 of the ministry staff, and 3/4 of the aurors, dead or maimed. He had been blamed for this, along with his senior, Gellert Teufel, the head of law enforcement. The then minister of magic, Oliver Baird, had acted like a true politician, putting the blame on the law enforcement department.
What utter rubbish!
But it was alright for Teufel, he left and by latest rumours, was teaching at Durmstrang. Equally infuriating was the fact that Sverre was not blamed, even though a death eater, and was allowed to leave in fashion.
But no, Teufel and Black were blamed and were humiliated in front of the other heads of departments. The minister kept his steady ramble. His assistant, Cromwell, had merely sat there watching, as if bored by the proceedings. And Black resigned and applied at Hogwarts.
Sipping the wine, he tried to remember Hildegard. They had fought after all. She was the one, who laughed gleefully as the chaos unfurled. She was...
Ah.. yes, as nutter as Bellatrix.
But a voice inside his mind was nudging him. Do you really have to do this?
But Black had made up his mind. He had a score to settle.
Perhaps he too was a bit of a nutter like his distant relative Bellatrix Lestrange.
Last edited by m_1512; September 30, 2012 at 07:42 AM.
News reaches the Ministry, and by extension the streets of London in the underground wizarding community, that a series of explosions near Swedish natural gas lines may have been caused by dark wizard activity.
Black hears of the news.
He smirks, Well well well, Hella is not so clever after all. A big scene to even scratch her nose.
Tsk tsk tsk.
The smirk turns to a scowl. Of all places, she had to choose Sweden. If he had to leave early, he might as well pack, and pack light.
An overcoat, some money, and his wand would suffice. But as he turns to leave, a sudden thought strikes him. Smiling slightly, he takes out a small box. A memoir of his old days.
He takes out a badge from it. A badge reading,Who knows? It could come in handy.
He landed with his broomstick in a valley shaded with rhododendrons, close to the snow line, where a stream milky with meltwater splashed and where doves and linnets flew among the immense pines, not long from there lay a cave, halfhidden by the crag above and the stiff heavy leaves that clustered below. The woods were full of sound: the stream between the rocks, the wind among the needles of the pine branches, the chitter of insects and the cries of small arboreal mammals, as well as the birdsong; and from time to time a stronger gust of wind would make one of the branches of a cedar or a fir move against another and groan like a cello. With the wind came a tint of smell unnatural to this Swedish nature. The Air hung with the smell of the rumored explosion. And here was properly the best place to start the investigation, and set up camp.
Black threw his broomstick aside. In an instant, he had his wand at the ready. With his left hand, he took the old badge, in case it was some fool camping.
He felt light and agile. It was after quite sometime he had some action. His right hand clutched hard around the wand. He could feel the years of training coming back to him.
He calmed himself by relaxing his breathing. He kept his ears and eyes sharp for the slightest noise or movement, as he moved ahead. He walked with soft footsteps, following the direction where he had heard that cackle.
Black had stopped in his tracks. But strangely, the feeling was dread was replaced by something else. Even he could not tell himself what it was. It was a strange feeling, something that he never had as an auror. To his utter disbelief, he found himself sneering. Why indeed, it has been quite some time, Hella. Would you also believe that I never thought I would be meeting you so soon.
Black relaxed his posture. Not to mention an honour, eh? It might interest you to know that you are standing in company of a distant relative of your role-model, Bellatrix Lestrange.
Last edited by m_1512; October 05, 2012 at 08:16 AM.
Black yawned widely. Disgraced? She was an bit of a fool anyway. But I was under the impression that she died in battle.
A flicker of annoyance passed his face on hearing the word auror. But he managed to mask it by yet another sneer. Auror?
He began laughing, almost in a maniacal way. He did not know why his mind kept reminding of Bellatrix at this? But that just made him laugh harder. After a couple of minutes, he ceased laughing. Auror? Now I simply wonder why they say that you have no sense of humour, or rather a sorry one.
He flung his badge at her from his left hand, his right clutching his wand. I am no longer an auror. I do not bow before politicians anymore.
Black smiled humorlessly. You are such an idiot. I would, as a matter of fact, like to register my astonishment that an idiot like you became a dark wizard, no, ah.. witch.
He positioned his posture in a combative one. As to who kills who, I am sorry it came to this. We nutters would have been quite a pair. But as you had me disgraced, I must most regrettably kill you.
I could be wrong, you know. I might even enjoy killing you.
Black blocked the spell with some effort, but Hildegard continued to circle. When he cast his second spell, Hildegard simply flicked her wand and responded with a green wave of magic. The two spells connected in a dazzling explosion of light. Hildegard's black eyes glowed green with the reflection of the spell, she looked as if she was going to force it through, but Black sent the spells careening into a tree.
Black knew at once that here was a witch quite unnatural. He would have to use quite unorthodox technique. He noticed a pair of thick rings with strange markings on her right hand. No doubt they would be of some dark order. But that just gave him an idea.
He pointed at the rings, chanting, Flagrante!
Black apparated to her right. He noticed a small thatch of frozen ice she was standing on. A pond, perhaps. Black merely pointed his wand at the thatch. Bombardia!
Hildegard's ring erupted into a searing hot ring of red iron. She hissed in pain as the smell of burning flesh filled the air. She quickly cast a freezing charm on her hand to end the pain, but succeeded in freezing her finger solid. It blackened, as if dead. When Black destroyed the ice patch, Hildegard simply began hovering, as if some dark power held her aloft.
Hildegard then unleashed a spell Black did not recognize. Forming a triangle between her thumbs and forefingers, a black mist seemed to erupt from her wand, heading directly towards him. The air seemed to become noxious.
Last edited by Pontifex Maximus; October 08, 2012 at 02:22 PM.
Black did the first thing that came to his mind. He disapparated witha swirl of robes and appeared behind the woods.
He pointed his wand at Hildegard. Expelliarmus!
Struck by an instant thought, he tried a spell which might just work, although simple. He pointed his wand at the icy water beneath her feet and muttered, Leviosa!
And focused both his wand and hand on it. His mind focused on the intent to create a sphere of water around her, to imprison here.
An Old Score (Hildegard)
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